Revealed – Chapter 22

Making an educated guess, Jiro deposits himself outside of the transitway stop closest to the Hana Okiya at seven-ten. He figures Sanaa will disembark the train here in another ten minutes and hopefully he’ll be able to catch her and escort her the rest of the way.

Opening up the newsreader on his tablet, he flips through the major sections but can’t concentrate on any of the top stories. Yoichi is such a selfish bastard. He’s determined to make Jiro’s life miserable, and yet Jiro can’t help but love and admire his brother. Yoichi got everything from the family just by taking it, and left him with the second skimmings. His insinuation that Sanaa would make a scene tonight and ruin things is annoying. Completely ridiculous. When Jiro had showered, shaved, and dried his hair, he exited the bathroom and found his brother gone. It was not the way he wanted to start the night.

The ground under Jiro’s feet rumbles with the vibrations of an approaching train, the opening notes of Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake, the entrance chimes for this station, echoing up through the street grates. Ku 6 has the majority of symphony music station chimes. In Ku 9, the Science and Engineering ward, the stations play ballads from old science fiction films. He looked them all up once. John Williams was a prolific composer.

Jiro tries to concentrate even harder on his tablet, but, instead of reading, he’s remembering the time he brought Melanie home to meet his parents. Melanie was sick with worry about the whole thing. They had been dating a few weeks and had already slept together numerous times, but this was a big step for her.

Her family was liberal and easy, and they liked Jiro right away, but she knew his family was straight-up traditional, even though he tried to tell her his parents weren’t that bad. Still, she was so nervous she barely spoke during their first family dinner and was convinced Mariko hated her from then on out. It was a major roadblock for them, the beginning of the end.

Sanaa and Sakai spend a lot of time together, and he’s definitely fond of her. Sanaa’s parents knew Jiro’s parents. Putting himself in her place, he figures she’s nervous and excited about tonight. Not only are the two of them making up for a disastrous date last night, but she’ll be meeting his family. He wishes he hadn’t joked around about the geisha today. He should have instead offered her reassurances she would have a great time tonight.

A man and a woman pass close by Jiro, and looking up as they depart, he finds Sanaa standing in the street, watching him. His breathing comes to an abrupt stop. When he thinks of her now, he never pictures her like this. She’s always in Nishikyō grays or a black undershirt, her hair pulled up and messy. Occasionally, he remembers her orange kimono from New Year’s Eve but his image of her that night is vague and hazy now. Last night, when she walked into Izakaya Tanaka, he almost didn’t recognize her.

Now, she’s gorgeous in a light purple yukata and red obi sash. The yukata has a cherry blossoms print that’s perfect for her. Flowers. He should buy her flowers soon. Her hair is straight, way down past her shoulders, her cheeks blushed, and lips pink. Yes. Perfect.

He smiles at her, turning off his tablet as she walks up.

“Fancy seeing you here, stranger.” She smiles back at him, stepping close to move away from the sidewalk traffic. His nose grazes the top of her head, and she smells sweet, like oranges.

“I knew you’d be early.” Jiro tucks his tablet under one arm. “You’ve never been late for practice. Not once.”

“You were waiting for me? How’d you know I’d come out this entrance?”

“It’s the closest station to the Hana Okiya. I put two and two together.”

“I guess I’m predictable,” she says with a pout.

“Not always.” He holds his arm out to her, and she takes it, blushing. Even the smallest gestures overwhelm her sometimes. “My parents and Sakai are already there. They arrived an hour early to do business before we show up.” Walking down the sidewalk side-by-side, Jiro navigates her in the direction of the okiya.

“Is Mark always business? It seems like it.”

“He has his moments. If we get enough saké into him tonight maybe he’ll strip down and streak around the okiya.” It happened the one time and Jiro had never been so embarrassed, though his parents died of laughter.

“No, not Mark. Not in a million years,” she exclaims, her eyes wide with disbelief.

“Don’t scoff. It’s been known to happen.” It’s hard keeping the smile from his face.

“And does this happen to everyone?”

“Only if you’re horrible at drinking games.” She clutches his arm tighter, her face losing the easy smile. “Sanaa, I swear I can read you like a book. Don’t be nervous. I’m teasing you.”

She’s definitely nervous, and about everything, from the geishas to the drinking to meeting his family to being with him outside of the dōjō. He has to put her at ease or she’ll bolt.

Next time Jiro has the chance, he’s going to give Miko a big hug. “If she doubts how you feel, she’ll close up so fast, it’ll leave your head spinning.” He’s going to make sure she never doubts him.

“We’re here.”

He escorts Sanaa through the process of entering an okiya, especially for the first time. She’s charmed by the decor, laying her hand on the real wooden beams. Shichi, one of the long-time attendants and a friend of Jiro’s, turns her warmth and hospitality to high when she sees Sanaa’s clasped hands and frozen state. She’s so nervous she can barely speak, and Jiro just wants to hug her and tell her it’ll be fine. She knows almost everyone here and his mother can’t wait to meet her. It’ll be easy.

Unfortunately, they’re the last to arrive. When Shichi slides the room’s door open, Jiro is confronted with Sakai, Koichi, and Yoichi sitting with Miko and Mariko. He glances at Sanaa as they walk in, and her face is pale, her eyes directed anywhere but at Jiro’s mother.

“Oh, Koichi. She looks just like her.” Mariko has her hand to her mouth, covering up her surprised face and tears in the corners of her eyes.

Shit. This is the last thing Jiro expected to happen. He honestly thought his mother would jump from her seat and embrace her what with the way she fought so hard for Sanaa to get a break the other day.

Sakai reaches over and grabs Jiro’s mother’s hand and squeezes. “It takes some time to get used to it, Mariko.”

Over the top of Sanaa’s bowed head, Jiro and Yoichi make wary eye contact, his brother’s face is carved in stone, ‘told you so’ written all over his expression.

With Jiro’s mother lightly sobbing and Sakai patting her hand, someone needs to help this situation. Yoichi and Miko are now both avoiding eye contact. Sanaa bravely lifts her gaze from the floor and turns to Jiro for guidance. He has no idea what to say, disappointment permeating every bone in his body, but he wraps his arm around her shoulder anyway and squeezes, ready to take her away as quickly as possible.

Thankfully, Koichi jumps up and comes around the sunken table to them both, a wide smile on his face causing his scar to sink back along his jaw.

“You look lovely. Did you get some rest this afternoon?”

She lets out a long breath and smiles at him, bowing her head. “Yes, I even napped. Thanks for sending us home earlier than usual.”

Jiro navigates Sanaa to the last two spots and gestures for her to sit on the end, making himself a buffer between her and his crazy family. She kneels down, lightly running her hand over the dark blue cushions and smiling at how extravagant they are before swinging her legs under the sunken table.

As Jiro takes his seat next to her, he peeks under the table. Sanaa’s hands are clasped but her feet are wiggling around, knocking back and forth while she glances around the room. Her eyes pause for a long moment on the scroll in the tokonoma, a painting of cranes poised to take flight under a full moon. It’s one of Jiro’s favorites. He sometimes asks to see it when they come here but do business in another room.

He’s not sure what to do about his mother, but he should lighten the mood so Sanaa can relax.

“Mother, have another drink. You’re falling apart,” he says, reaching across Sanaa and pouring them both saké.

“I’m sorry, Jiro.” Mariko takes a deep breath and smiles through her tears. “Sanaa, I knew your mother well. She was one of my best friends, and I’m afraid I never realized how much I missed her until now. It’s good to see you tonight.” She nods to everyone at the table. “Forgive my outburst. Let’s eat and forget about it.”

The adults return to their conversation on the other side of the table, and Jiro breathes a sigh of relief as food makes its way over to them. He passes vegetable-stuffed dumplings served with a tangy soy sauce, tofu wrapped around finely sliced carrots and mushroom rice, crispy pieces of soy-based salty duck, and breaded and deep fried lotus roots, carrots carved into flowers to Sanaa and is pleased she takes a little of everything. The other night at Izakaya Tanaka she ate all her dinner too. It’s nice to dine with someone who isn’t watching every little thing she eats like it’s going to poison her. Eriko was especially bad about this. The two times they went out, she didn’t even eat. She pushed the food around on her plate until it was time to go.

Is it nervousness? Or do they just not want to chew next to a guy they like? Melanie would barely eat half her portions at every meal. It was infuriating to take her out and then just sit and watch her sip wine all night while he enjoyed the food.

Sanaa eats quietly, so Jiro keeps pace at her side. She pops a piece of the mock duck into her mouth and lightly groans, her eyes closing while she slowly chews. Oh, yes. She likes the food, and Jiro’s heart soars.

Just as he’s about to lean in and ask her out to dinner the following night, the door slides open and two geisha enter the room.

“Hello everyone! Please excuse us. It’s eight-fifteen, Mr. Sakai. I hope your business is all complete?”

“Quite, Oyuki.”

Sakai is loose tonight. He has a genuine smile on his face and already a warm, pink glow about his cheeks from the alcohol. Sanaa nervously watches each of the geisha come in, her hands wringing in her lap and feet tapping away while every part of her above the table exudes confidence. If people could see what he sees underneath, they would laugh.

Oyuki and Masami, their hostesses for the evening, sit seiza and dispense saké to each end of the table. Jiro is familiar with both women and likes Oyuki, the older geisha, a lot more. She’s knowledgable and kind without being overly sweet. When everyone has had a lot to drink, Oyuki will play the best drinking games, laughing and challenging each person in the room. Masami, the younger woman, is too girly for Jiro, but she’s kind and easy to talk to which is important for a geisha.

While the girls discuss kimonos and makeup, Jiro lets his attention wander to his parents and Sakai on the other side of the table. He would kill to be able to read lips. Their heads are bowed to each other and the conversation appears to be serious, the way his father’s eyebrows are drawn in and his mother’s fingers tap her chin. She raises her head and notices Jiro watching them, smiling slightly and returning to the conversation. Then he hears Sanaa’s name whispered and knows they’re talking about her.

Checking to make sure Sanaa didn’t hear (she’s busy asking Masami questions), Jiro turns back to the adults, his temper rising. If they have something to say, they should come on out and say it. Miko asks about spring and summer festivals and Jiro interjects he’s looking forward to them this year, raising his eyebrow a little towards Sanaa. He’d love to be able to take her. She smiles back, nodding her head at the conversation, but he’s not entirely sure she caught his intentions.

What is it about this girl? She’s so confident about work and the sword fighting, and she’s even flirted with him, but when it comes to him dropping hints about spending time with her, they go completely over her head. It’s as if she’s fearless in everything but love. Maybe she’s pushed it away too long after what happened with Joshua. Miko said Sanaa kept her relationship with her other coworker strictly business.

Sanaa returns to eating, finishing off everything on her plate with a satisfied sigh.

“I’m glad you like the food. I think they’re serving tempura next.”

“Fantastic. I love tempura. I haven’t had it in a long time.”

He’ll take her to Asa’s restaurant. She’d love it.

They sit quietly for a moment and sip more saké, and Jiro decides he should try to fix his mother’s earlier outburst.

“Sorry about my mother. I feel awful about the way she put you on the spot like that. I’m sure she didn’t mean it.”

“No, it’s fine.” She rearranges her chopsticks a few times before laying them down and putting her hands in her lap. “Mark had a similar reaction to me. My mother must have been popular.”

“I hear your father was as well. Do you not get the same reactions from that side of the family?”

“No. We’re estranged from my father’s side. I don’t see them.”

Her lips quirk into a weak smile but it immediately fades. Oh no. That didn’t go well either. He forgot what Miko said about her father’s family.

What this girl lacks is a lot of love. She’s strong but she still needs someone other than her aunts and her few friends to love her. Jiro doesn’t know why she’s been so neglected and marginalized to doing a job she doesn’t want, dashing her dreams against the rocks. It doesn’t make any sense to him.

He sets down his chopsticks and reaches under the table. Taking her small hand in his, he laces his fingers in between each of hers. Her lips part to speak but nothing comes out.

“No worries,” he says, resting his head on his other hand and watching her. “You seem to have plenty of family now.”

He’ll make her a part of his family somehow. It seems crazy to think of it that way, but if they end up dating, maybe she could be close to his mother and father, and they could share stories with her about her parents.

She could have a chance at a real family with him. Even up to the moment he proposed to Melanie, he never really considered how she’d be a part of his family. Now he realizes that she would have always been an outsider. This is so different.

Sanaa smiles, ducking her head a little and tucking her hair behind her ear with her free hand and looking across the table. Sakai talks with Oyuki but Jiro turns to find his parents watching them. They both look happy Sanaa and Jiro are connecting.

Sanaa takes a deep shaky breath, closing her eyes. He strokes his thumb along the length of hers, and she sighs, her shoulders drooping, and her eyes flying open to meet his. The pull between them is so powerful, he wants to lean her back and kiss her against the tatami mats, their bodies pressed against each other.

All of these people need to go away.

The door opens as more food arrives, with more people to witness their intimate moment. Jiro instinctively feels the need to help out, so he lets go of Sanaa’s hand to distribute plates. She smiles and thanks him quietly when he places a plate in front of her, her hands now clasped in her lap again.

A kiss is just around the corner for them, he can feel it. And he won’t stop there. He’s going to kiss her lips, her cheeks, her ears, her neck, and work his way down until he’s hit every sweet spot on her body. While Masami and Oyuki entertain them with music, his mind wanders and plays through every conversation they’ve had, every practice session, every look, every word. The anticipation is killing him.

“So, love, do you think you can best me at Rock Paper Scissors? You know you always lose.” Here we go. This is when Jiro’s parents are due to embarrass the hell out of him and Yoichi. Mariko is goading Koichi into playing drinking games.

“That’s because you are a wicked, evil witch who can read minds. No, no, you try your wily ways on Mark, and I will watch and laugh,” Koichi responds, folding his arms across his chest with a wide smile. Smart move, though Sakai is just as drunk as he is.

Sanaa giggles, resting her head on her left hand she has propped on the table.

Jiro turns to her and whispers, “Not once have I ever seen my mother lose this game, and I had years of early bedtimes as a kid because she always beat me.”

Mariko proceeds to beat everyone in the room. After ten tries, Sakai throws up his hands and relents, but she’s not done. She bests both Yoichi and Miko, then Oyuki. Jiro waves her off, and she beats Sanaa as well.

“You are all terrible, terrible liars!” Mariko says with a laugh.

After a few more rounds, Koichi, Mariko, and Sakai are pretty far gone. Sanaa pushes away her drink. Her face is flushed and happy, and her eyes teared from laughing so hard. Jiro’s never seen her like this. Tired and worn out, exercising and fighting, quiet and contemplative, sexy and flirtatious, but never joyous and happy.

“I need rice or I won’t make it home,” she says to Masami, who nods and silently shuffles to the door to whisper to Shichi. Sanaa smiles at Jiro before dipping her head to the side and placing her temple on his shoulder. He tenses up, not really believing she’s finally softened to him. He glances down at her and her eyes are closed. She hums, her lips vibrating behind a smile, but her head comes up when the door opens and Shichi enters with bowls of rice.

Koichi and Sakai are telling old stories, so Jiro turns to Sanaa with his chopsticks out and plucks the rice from her bowl.

“Hey! That’s mine.” She tries to snatch back the bowl but his chopsticks are lightning fast.

“Sanaa, you must learn to share.”

“Fine, but now I think you owe me dinner.” Sanaa lifts her legs out of the well, kicking off the slippers, and bringing her feet next to his legs.

“Any time.” His left hand comes down and rests on her ankle, and she blushes at the contact. Mmmm. His heart is racing in his chest. This small amount of touching is driving him wild. She cranes her neck forward and looks at something over his shoulder, but he doesn’t want to stop concentrating on her.

“What are you looking at?” Jiro strokes his thumb along her ankle, and she clears her throat.

“Oh, Miko and Yoichi. They’re so happy.”

“They are. It’s a good match.” He’s pretty sure Miko is going home with Yoichi tonight. Jiro will not be able to invite Sanaa over even though they’re all friends. Yoichi is so possessive of his time with Miko. He’ll consider it an annoyance if anyone else gets involved.

Without taking her eyes from Jiro’s, Sanaa sets her bowl down on the table, shifts her weight and hips towards him a little more, reaches down and takes his hand in hers with a smile. It’s strong and warm, and she squeezes the space between their fingers tightly as his chest constricts. He wasn’t expecting an obvious display of affection, here, in front of everyone. He’s finally broken through.

He leans in close to her, squeezing her hand and pulling it to him. “Time’s almost up. Let me take you home.”